


And he walked, far away from the town he called home

by Aluminosity07



Series: The world keeps turning [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft - Fandom
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cliffhanger, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, December 4th stream, Exile, Ghosts, Memory Loss, Minecraft Mechanics, PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Pogtopia, Running Away, Toby smith | Tubbo exiles Tommyinnit, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, i havent seen it yet and nor do i want to but either way I am absolutely going to write about it, no beta we die like wilbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27892183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aluminosity07/pseuds/Aluminosity07
Summary: When Tubbo tells him he’s exiled Tommy doesnt wait to listen to whatever else he’s gonna say— just turns and starts walkingUntil thats all he knows — well that and Wilbur.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), No shipping - Relationship, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, ew - Relationship, no - Relationship, theyre a family - Relationship
Series: The world keeps turning [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042947
Comments: 10
Kudos: 568
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	And he walked, far away from the town he called home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I havent seen the stream/VOD yet but here y’all go! I might do chapters or even a series for this, I have something planned for whats next after this! :)) 
> 
> All mistakes are my own! I have no beta reader or anything like that.

The moment the words come out of Tubbos mouth he turns away, turns and starts walking. Putting one foot in front of the other, ignoring everyone's calls or attempts to contact him. 

He gets to the edge of pogtopia, making his way into the opened doorway before he breaks down, hands clenched against the grass that had been growing in their little cove, retching on his knees, crying out for anyone, his only company the ghost of his brother. 

He ignores him— ignores the ghost until it gets too hard to bear, Ghostburs talk about vacation and holidays sounding nice for once.

He knew he’d be caught if he stayed for long so he grabbed the last of their things from the abandoned ravine, pulling over an almost ruined jacket as he made his way away from civilization. 

And he started walking again, one foot in front of the other, again and again, and again and again. 

He didn't stop, he _couldn't_ stop, and he wouldn't stop moving, further and further from the place he called home, _they_ called home. 

_The Further he was the safest he was,_ became his mantra for a while. 

Slowly he started talking with Ghostbur again, just one or two words — until it had gotten to full blown conversations. 

Tommy had been loud, a brash and reckless child but soon it got too much, and he became silent and anxious, only stopping when he was forced to. 

Days passed and he was still walking, no destination in mind, and days turned into weeks and weeks into months, until Tommy no longer knew how long it had been. 

He tried to keep himself as clean as possible, when the odd time he had travelled through oceans he always took a quick dip beforehand, before they travelled across it— how many had he passed by now? _He couldn’t remember._

He no longer cared about anything anymore, just the constant numbness slowly fading away as he traveled. 

He passed through deserts, forests, villages, oceans, swamps, even the winter westlands that killed many that went through them. 

Away from the Smp, and away from L’manburg, away from ?? And ?? 

_Away from who?_ He shrugged it off, if he didn’t remember who they were then it didn't matter, nothing mattered because he and Wilbur were together alongside ?? And ?? 

Tommy didn't like when he didnt know things anymore, names constantly were left on the edge of his tongue along with useless descriptions and Useless memories. 

He wondered when he started forgetting them all, nightmares that he couldn’t remember when he woke up— daydreams of things that might of happened, songs he knows he heard before but cant seem to remember their names. 

“Hey,” Wilbur said as he floated beside him, phazing through the tree branches. _when did he stop calling him ghostbur?_

Tommy hummed, looking at his brother worried. “Something wrong.” 

Wilbur shook his head before he pointed in a direction, one Tommy didn't know or care about. “can we go that way.” He asked, Tommy nodded not caring where they went at this point. 

The constant buzzing of his communicator had stopped a while back, and Tommy didn't care to check. The only reason he hadn't smashed the thing was because of Wilbur, Wilbur who told him in any case they ever split up, that's how he’ll be found. 

And Tommy didn't want to know why they’d ever split up, because they were family and family never split up. 

And they started traveling again, making camp near a village, just close enough that the iron golems wouldn't be a problem. For the first time in days Tommy fell asleep with no problems, under the watchful eyes of his never sleeping brother. 

  
  


His comm buzzed louder that normal in the morning. 

OoO

They continued on their travels, soon ending up in an endless winter, the coat barely doing anything to stop the cold from getting to him. 

And again he placed one foot in front of the other and continued on, some days the itch to read whatever message had popped up on his comms was urging, Wilbur not helping much encouraging him to read them. _He never wanted to, the feelings of anxiousness and anger always getting the best of it._

“It might be Technoblade or Philza!” Wilbur said often when it buzzed. _Who's that? Tommy had asked him once, only getting a frown from his brother._

Thankfully they made their way out of the wastelands and into a dark forest, Tommy faltered remembering the times he had gone into one and had died only to respawn back at his last campsite. Wilbur had taken a few days to find him, Tommy ignoring his comm which went off like crazy after he died. 

He didn't want to see his death message, knowing what it would say. 

Tommy loomed at Wilbur conflicted before they set up camp for the night, maybe if they did it at the base of the forest they could make it through. 

Tommy slept alone that night, hidden beneath the logs of a few fallen trees. The vines and leaves covering him from the monsters outside. 

Soon Wilbur started pushing them in another direction, pointing vaguely in what Tommy could see as a mansion. Dread filled his stomach as he finally told Wilbur he didn't want to go. 

Wilbur looked at him before whispering, “past the mansion, through the desert and into the arctic.” 

Tommy looked at him terrified, before timidly pulling his bag over his shoulder and scarf over his neck. “Okay Wilbur.” He murmured, now wasn't the time to let their guard down. 

Quickly they passed through the forest, it thankfully being smaller than Tommy had thought it to be. Only taking a few hours— and a few monsters to get through. 

Though now as Tommy looked at his broken and worn down sword, he felt scared And instead he hoped for the best, placing one foot in front of the other, hoping to find a villager to trade with, if only to get a new weapon or the means to create one. 

They struggled to get through the desert, especially with the loss of his sword, having to use his pickaxe to defend himself, Wilbur not having a weapon or the body to use one. 

They found a small village quite the ways through the forest, they spoke of a land that Tommy was sure he had heard of before, any thoughts of it came up blank, only the confusion and loneliness that came from within his mind. 

“Dream smp?” He asked Wilbur— he should know this, his heart sped up and fear overcame him as he asked, “what's that?” 

Wilbur smiled, “it used to be home.” He said simply before whispering, “it used to be happy.” 

Tommy did not ask anymore questions after that about it, just making sure to mark it down on their nonexistent map of “Dont go there.” 

Wilburs humming kept him up that night, and they left early in the morning— if it could even count for morning, and their cycle continued, travelling through the desert and — 

**_Into the arctic_ **

OoO

Tommy stared at the quickly changing seasons in wonder, his eyes widening as he tried to look through the snowy storm. 

He swallowed anxious, looking at Wilbur— Wilbur who was looking at him with encouraging eyes. 

And Wilbur started moving forward slowly, giving Tommy time to follow him and scared of both the desert behind him and storm in front of him he followed. 

He stayed close behind, for once having to look where he's going, for once having to force himself to move one foot in front of the other. 

And he blinked, Wilbur was gone and he was standing in the cold, harsh winter vast, scared and alone.

He couldn't move, if anything he was frozen— both figuratively and literally. 

Wilbur was gone and he was alone— _he was going to die out here wasn't he? Was it all for nothing?_ He asks himself as he falls forward into the snow, _wilbur?_ Any sign of his brother, his throat closed on him as he took shaky breaths, soft cried coming from his— cold and shaking body. 

He didn't want to die again, he didn't want to be stuck in that desert alone, “WILBUR!” He screamed, his throat hurting the moment the words came out of his mouth. 

He heard someone talking to him, holding him close. “Wilby?” He muttered quietly, his eyes never once opening. _Oh but Wilbur was dead and—_


End file.
